How Am I Supposed to Die?
by disneyprincessludwig
Summary: Gerita. A halloween special, with a happy ending promised c; Feliciano Vargas moved far away from his crazy vigilante brother, but upon reconsideration, perhaps vampires aren't that far fetched at all. Certainly not when Ludwig is considered. Germany/italy
1. How am I supposed to die?

He was always there, every day, in the morning when Feliciano Vargas walked to work, and every evening when he walked home. He sat on the same park bench every day, in the same enormous coat, with his pale hands folded neatly in his lap, simply watching the passersby. Sharp electric blue eyes watched with interest as every vehicle and pedestrian passed by on the road, never seeming to actually see anything. He looked lost and cold. And day after day, Feliciano would meet his piercing blue eyes and wonder, whatever was he doing there?

It was a windy day in September when Feliciano saw fit to sit down beside him on the bench, the blonde man keeping his eyes forever cast on the road, seeming not to notice him take a seat. "Hey," Feliciano began, waiting patiently for the blonde to turn his attention to him, "It's a lovely day for fall, isn't it?"

The blue eyes blinked furiously at him, as if confused. "It's cold."

His voice was much softer than Feliciano had expected, and his face paler than seemed safe. Feliciano thought worriedly on his last statement, "Oh, really? Are you?"

"Frequently." He said, before turning back to watch the street.

Feliciano shifted awkwardly, trying to think of some other small talk he could make, "Well, ah, I'm Feliciano, by the way. Who might you be?"

The man continued staring into the road, sighing heavily, before replying quietly. "Ludwig."

The brunet did not press him further, taking the cue to heart. "Ah, well then, good day to you Ludwig. Perhaps we'll meet again."

Ludwig did not respond, his gaze enamored with the road ahead.

The next day, Feliciano saw fit to try again. The blonde looked up at him this as he sat down this time, a small frown evident. His eyes showed the same cloudy confusion as the day before, like he didn't quite understand why Feliciano wanted to sit near him. Feliciano didn't blame him. He was unsure of that himself. Yet perhaps it was the strange behavior of the man that called Feliciano forward. He looked lonely, and it echoed hollowly through his gentle voice. Or at least, from the four words Feliciano had managed to capture from him.

Feliciano sat down today with a cheery whistle, turning to his stoic companion. "Hello there Ludwig, how are you today?"

The blue eyed man stayed silent for a moment, before whispering back, "Why do you insist on talking to me?"

Feliciano hummed cheerily. "Fate, I suppose. You know I walk by here every day, and you're sitting here every day, so it must be meant to be that I spoke with you at some point."

"Fate is a cruel thing," The piercing blue eyes met amber once again, "If I were you, I would not be talking to me."

"Right, right, but I'm not you," Feliciano's grin fell for the first time, "And to be fair, I've had my fair share of the butt end of fate, or destiny or whatever you want to call it."

"Hm."

Feliciano took that as a sign to continue, and to be perfectly candid, he needed someone to vent to anyways. "Yeah, you know, as far as my family goes. They're lovely, lovely people, they just, ah, have some interesting habits. Well, it's more like my ancestors started a cult in the witch-hunting heyday, and well, it seems to be passed along down the line. They say they're hunting vampires," Ludwig flinched noticeably at this, but waved for Feliciano to continue, "Oh, don't worry, I don't subscribe to any of that. As I was saying, they insist it's real and love to play vigilantes under the guise. I don't think it's fair, that's fifteenth century stuff, you know? Well, anyhow, I'm sure your family is better than that?"

Ludwig smiled bitterly. "They're dead."

Feliciano did not press him further, feeling content to leave for the day. "I'm horribly sorry for your loss, ah, I'll be seeing you around, I suppose?"

Ludwig did not reply, giving only a small nod, his gaze enamored with the road ahead.

The next day was much the same as the second and the first, with Feliciano inexplicably drawn back to the pale man on the park bench, who today seemed to quiver with a certain unease. He acknowledged Feliciano with his piercing eyes once more, this time still a little more inviting than the last. Feliciano sat himself down heftily, today his purpose was clear, and that was to inquire about the blonde's particular physical state, and perhaps why he was here as well.

"Hello there Ludwig!" Feliciano chattered happily, setting down his briefcase on the end of the bench, "My, me, you're looking awfully pale today. Are you alright?"

Ludwig shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet Feliciano's eyes. "I am quite fine, thank you. Just cold."

It was Feliciano's turn to frown today. "Are you quite certain? I mean even your hands and cheeks seem to have lost their color…"

Ludwig did not respond, huffing gently.

"Are you quite certain? I mean, you say you're cold, but it's still rather warm out."

Ludwig was facing in the complete opposite direction now, his breathing heavy. "It's nothing much," he paused slightly, his Adam's apple quivering dangerously, "I just haven't eaten in a week or so."

Feliciano was not sure he had heard him correctly. "A week? An entire _week?_! And you don't think that's much?!" The blonde simply stared on guiltily, looking very much like a kicked dog, "That's not acceptable, I absolutely insist you have dinner with me tonight. Well, come along then, my house isn't more than two blocks away from here."

Ludwig stared blankly up at him, his Adam's apple still bobbing dangerously in his throat, mouth slightly agape. Feliciano extended a hand, gently prompting Ludwig to take it. Ludwig stared blankly at that too, as if uncertain of what Feliciano meant. Feliciano huffed at this, finally resorting to grabbing Ludwig's arm and dragging him up from the bench. He stumbled slightly, blue eyes still showing the same confusion as before. He followed Feliciano apprehensively, the brunet's hand still clasped firmly on his right forearm.

The walk to Feliciano's home was indeed short, he'd managed to buy a well done townhouse in a long row of them near the park itself, though it seemed he'd taken control of a bit of redecoration. Feliciano let go of Ludwig's arm momentarily to fiddle with his keys for a bit, and the blonde stayed put, evidently he'd come too far to consider turning back now. Feliciano swung the mahogany door open with flair, eagerly trying to usher Ludwig up the porch steps and over the threshold. Ludwig paused tensely by the door.

"Ah, I hate to be demanding," the blue eyed man began tentatively, "But aren't you going to invite me in?"

Feliciano's eyebrow piqued at the strange request. "Wasn't that already implied? It's really no trouble of mine, I promise you."

Ludwig stared down at his feet. "Well, ah, you see, it's just an old myth my father told me, and it probably isn't true but um, I'd rather just be safe."

Feliciano rolled his eyes, but complied anyways, "Yes, very well, you're invited into my home."

Ludwig nodded gratefully, and entered the house delicately, as if taking in all the details of Feliciano's well kempt home. Which, of course, Feliciano did keep very neat and presentable, or at least, Ludwig mused, the entrance was presentable. Feliciano ushered him past the mudroom with ease pushing him to the living room, where he was presented with a round leather chair and an, "I'll be right back!"

Feliciano was quite certain he couldn't go wrong with some of his homemade spaghetti, it was such a staple dish and he was quite certain everyone was fond of pasta. Just to be safe, however, he popped back into the living room to ask, "You aren't allergic to anything are you? And will spaghetti be fine?"

Ludwig nodded from his seat, where he seemed to have gathered blankets already. _He really must be cold_, Feliciano decided. Ludwig did, however, have one other thing to add. "Garlic." He stated rather plainly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Feliciano stared back at him curiously. "Garlic…that's a strange one, I've never quite heard of that before. I'll be certain to keep it out though."

Ludwig thanked him, before settling down under his nest of blankets once more. He looked rather peaceful, Feliciano thought, perhaps it was best to let him sleep while he prepared their meal. It was indeed strange to have the almost-stranger curling up in his favorite chair with what must have been at least four blankets – was he really _that_ cold? It just didn't seem healthy to Feliciano, to say the least, and he was awfully worried of how he would fare in the winter months, particularly if he wasn't eating. It seemed the pale man had slipped away already, and Feliciano decided it was worthless pondering these things, he ought to just ask later.

He did greatly enjoy preparing pasta, and he was rather lucky in that he stored his own after it dried; there was linguini and penne and angel-hair spaghetti, and all number of other interesting shapes he had played with, though he decided perhaps he should stick to the angel-hair, much less error was contained within that shape. Feliciano then set about collecting the tomatoes and basil, disappointed with how his plants were withering in the colder autumn days. _Lovino used to grow his own garden._ Feliciano almost jumped at the strange thought. He hadn't meant to, and really Lovino and Marcello's fates were the last of his concern, but the thought lingered as he diced the tomatoes, hanging dangerously near the end of the knife as he slid the chunks unto the blender. It was hopeless. He'd always remember them, whenever he did this, and rightfully so; they were still his brothers, in some respects. Pushing these thoughts to the side, he reached for the basil, shredding the leaves gently, and adding them too to the blender. Flicking the machine on with his thumb, he hummed patiently as the _thrum_ filled the room.

It was very quiet. Almost like he was alone, yet he knew Ludwig was sleeping just a few meters over in the other room. It was always like this, now that he was alone, and Pookie was an old cat who preferred to sleep than to greet her weary owner by the door every day. Ludwig's presence was very welcome, perhaps more so than Feliciano had imagined. It filled him with a sense of warmth to know he had someone, who, even if he would not verbally recognize it, seemed to depend on Feliciano the way he did on him.

Allowing the sauce to sit, Feliciano returned his attention to the boiling water, deeming it appropriate to put the spaghetti in now. The rest of his actions were rather mechanical; stir, wait, simmer, drain, and lastly to mix with the sauce. The ticking of the analog clock by the stove was his only company as he finished, washing up and putting food in Pookie's bowl, for whenever she decided to come out.

He paced quietly into the other room, watching Ludwig slumber for a while before carefully putting his hand to the other's temple. The blonde didn't seem to have a fever, he just seemed cold, and his pulse was very calm and slow. Feliciano frowned slightly, he wasn't a very medical man, and he couldn't quite place anything other than a fever, so he decided to let it go for now. Shaking Ludwig's shoulder gently, he prompted the man to wake up, blue eyes blinking curiously at the blankets and his surroundings, before seeming to remember where he was.

Ludwig did not speak, seemingly waiting for Feliciano to tell him what to do. Feliciano just smiled at him, "Come along then, I've made dinner," and ushered the blonde man into the dining room, where he sat him down at one end, setting a plate before him.

"And what would you like to drink? I have milk and tea and juices, and water of course!"

Ludwig stared blankly at his plate for a few seconds, biting his lip as if contemplating how much to push his luck. "I'll take milk," Ludwig nearly whispered, and it made Feliciano upset to hear the melancholy tone, but he pursed his lips silently and poured their drinks.

Feliciano seated himself opposite of Ludwig, observing with interest the way he fiddled gently with the tassels of the placemats, clearly unsure of himself. "You are allowed, you know, to take whatever you want."

Ludwig blinked at him, whispering, "Thank you," before serving himself a very modest amount of the spaghetti, so modest in fact Feliciano was concerned it was hardly enough.

"Please do take more," he begged, taking soft hold of Ludwig's pale hands from across the table, "You haven't eaten in days, it would bother me more if you took such a small amount."

Ludwig nodded slightly, another whispered _thank you_, and spooned more onto his plate, and he even smiled just the tiniest bit, and that communicated more to Feliciano than any number of thanks could have. The brunet took his own portion with much gusto, happy to have somehow pleased the taller man. The blonde was very silent as he ate, and Feliciano found himself continuously staring back upwards, waiting for the other to say something. Ludwig did not, eating with such a pace that showed his desire to be polite conflicting with his shaking need to eat. Feliciano watched him for a few seconds, worriedly wondering how he had come to such a position, when something peculiar caught his eye.

As Ludwig ate, it became increasingly evident his top incisors were extraordinarily long and sharp, to the point where they clacked on the prongs of his fork sometimes. Feliciano must have been staring for a little too long, because the blonde put his fork down with haste, blue eyes reflecting worry.

Feliciano waved hurriedly, trying to communicate that was not what he'd meant. "Ah, no, no, you're fine! I was just a bit startled by your teeth, is all."

Ludwig's brow furrowed, and his hand moved to his jaw reflexively, "Oh. I suppose that's something inherited from my father…"

Feliciano laughed half-heartedly, "Never you mind, it's perfectly fine; rather, they suit you."

Ludwig returned to his food quietly, and Feliciano for one hoped he hadn't deterred him. The rest of the evening proceeded uneventfully, Ludwig silently finishing and waiting for Feliciano, who had smiled warmly upon finishing.

"Now, do tell me, where do you live? I'd hate to have you go home alone in the dark."

Ludwig blanched slightly, replying in a low tone, "I don't live very far from here, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to make you walk," Feliciano was getting the vibe he was not going to win this argument, but it seemed to him better to ask again.

"No, I'm quite fine on my own." Ludwig kept his voice firm, again keeping his eyes from ever quite meeting Feliciano's.

Feliciano sighed, accepting Ludwig's resolution, and showed him to the door, stopping him from stepping out with a firm hand on the blonde's shoulder, "Do keep safe, alright?"

Ludwig nodded plainly, before turning around and heading down the dark city street, in the same direction Feliciano had brought him before.

He was there the next day too, sitting on the same park bench watching the passersby. Feliciano waved to him in the morning as he walked to work, and Ludwig gave a quiet nod in response. Perhaps he was beginning to open up.

Ludwig was still in much the same spot in the afternoon, sitting on the park bench with his hands folded neatly in his lap. Feliciano waved to him cheerily, seating himself beside the blonde. Ludwig waved to him slightly today, and Feliciano took it as a signal to begin speaking.

"I brought you something today ah, I'm not really the best but I made a batch of muffins, and I was hoping you'd take some," the brunet chattered as he pulled up the container from his bag.

Ludwig took one, and thanked him graciously, which Feliciano just laughed, "Oh no, please do take more, I've way too many for just me and my cat. They're blueberry, you know, they say that's one of the better fruits to have."

Ludwig looked down at the rest of the muffins, clearly torn between taking as many as he could and remaining polite. Feliciano laughed again, taking out three more from the container, and setting them on his lap, "Go on, take them. You seem to need them more than me."

Ludwig took them silently, leaning over to whisper, "Thank you," and to hum slightly, a noise Feliciano was not quite sure he could make a few moments prior.

Feliciano smiled back at him, allowing Ludwig a moment to eat, before he began again, "Well, you know, today I was thinking, that I haven't really talked to my brothers in years. And well, a lot can change in a short period of time and – just maybe, they've changed and we'll be able to talk again. Without any of the faerie and witch crap, you know, like actual family. It's…kind of a feeble hope, to be honest…" Feliciano drifted off slightly here.

Ludwig looked at him curiously over the muffin, concern evident on his face. "Well," he began slowly, as if still formulating his thought, "It's worth a try. Even if they are still mad, they're family. And maybe they won't have it, but…it's nice to have someone there."

Feliciano nodded quietly, recognizing this was the most he'd heard Ludwig say in one go. It was hopeful then, that the taller man was warming up to him, and Feliciano did wonder just how much Ludwig was hiding. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you. I don't quite think I'm ready to call them now though. It'll surely take time. I'm just worried it won't turn out well."

"Naturally," Ludwig replied, very much enamored with the muffins Feliciano had given him.

Feliciano decided not to press him any further, and took his leave for the day, bidding Ludwig the best of luck and a good day. Ludwig waved to him as he left, before his gaze again became enamored with the road ahead.

The month of September proceeded very much like this, with Feliciano visiting Ludwig on his park bench every day, bringing him food whenever it felt necessary. Which it was beginning to feel very necessary.

Ludwig must have been getting sicker, or perhaps the food Feliciano brought him was the only he ever ate, because he'd mentioned, as they got more acquainted, that he hadn't eaten in a few weeks, and then a few more weeks, and then a whole month. Feliciano was unsure whether he meant a proper meal, whether he was losing himself, or whether he meant…something else.

He had toyed with the idea before, because it reminded him of his brothers and their strange hobby. Ludwig was very passive and weak, sure, but the implications held something threatening to Feliciano. Ludwig was allergic to garlic, he asked to be invited in, he had teeth like a hound and was constantly cold with a low pulse, and then came the fact he kept stating he hadn't eaten, when Feliciano had made very sure he had been. It added up, and made him uncomfortable. It was probably just coincidence, and Ludwig was ill, but it reminded him too much of his brothers' strange claims.

Asking Ludwig himself was immediately out of the question. The internet would give him myths and unreliable information, and there was no proof his current evidence meant anything, other than the man was ill. But still he found his hand lingering over Lovino's contact number, wanting desperately to just call and ask _what he even did and how do you tell and can you help me with this. _It was concerning, on many planes, that he was being forced to this end, but he missed it, truly. He missed asking his older brother for help and he missed family holidays and he missed little Marcello's cheery face and nothing had really been the same since Nonno had died and left them to themselves.


	2. What am I to say to that

One day in October was particularly bad. Ludwig was swaying slightly when Feliciano came to visit, his eyes pressed firmly shut and slouching against the back of the bench. He'd waved to Feliciano with tired and slow motions, dark bags ridiculously evident under his eyes and a subtle shake to his motions. Feliciano had noticed, and he had promptly asked.

To which Ludwig had replied, "It's nothing."

Feliciano had pressed him further, desiring some sort of straightforward answer. The answer was the same as ever.

"I just haven't eaten in over a month, it's nothing much," he responded, eyes blinking rather hollowly.

Feliciano had decided that was the final straw. Something was terribly amiss and his gut told him to call Lovino and just ask because it really wouldn't hurt if Ludwig wasn't and then he would know to just feed him and make sure he was seeing a doctor. That wasn't necessarily a best-case scenario either, but it was better than dealing with a supernatural being.

And so his fingers fell on that never used number in his contacts and he found himself breathing heavily in his favorite armchair nervously petting his fat old cat and waiting to see if Lovino would pick up. The phone rang four times before Feliciano heard the gentle click of it being picked up, and the nervous voice of his brother.

"Hello? Is this Feliciano?"

Feliciano took a deep breath before replying, "Yeah, hello Lovino, it's me."

The nervousness all but melted away at that, his tone becoming quite hard. "Have you called to apologize then?"

Feliciano halted, unsure where to go with this, "Um, ah, yes, I suppose. Or at least to talk."

Lovino hissed from the other end, "What could you possibly need to talk about now? How you left us all for your pretty city? You haven't talked to us in years. Marcello is worried."

Feliciano tried to keep his voice down, "You wouldn't want my "impure and irrational logic against all evidence" in your household, would you?"

Lovino was seething, spitting back into the phone, "We weren't even asking you to get involved, just to be there for us. Just to be a part of the family. Marcello is graduating this year, you know, and imagine how upset he'll be to know his big brother doesn't care enough to show up."

"Don't involve Marcello in this."

Feliciano heard something slamming on the other end of the line, "Goddammit, Feliciano, I've told you before, Marcello is an adult now, he's neither your or my responsibility but he sure as hell is our little brother – our family, and if you want to take any responsibility, man up and be there for him."

"Not…not if you're going to be like this."

"So you called just to gloat? What's the point of that? Look, just say what you need to and then I'll determine you have any validity left in you."

Feliciano grumbled irritably, "No, no. Rather uh, I wanted to ask you something. In your area of expertise. Um. How does one go about identifying, ah, vampires?" To Feliciano, the word sounded childish and stupid, and he wished they had some sort of proper or scientific name.

Lovino paused on the other line, stuttering noises seeping through to Feliciano's end, "Well, um, that's quite a turn around. What made you have a change of heart? And what exactly is the context here?"

Feliciano physically shrugged, knowing Lovino couldn't see it on the other end, "Well, it's just, ah, you see I met someone, who sort of fits the bill. You know, tall, pale, sharp teeth, allergic to garlic, cold and low pulse, and ah, he did ask to be invited in to my house I suppose. But the most worrying thing is he says he's not eating, and I've definitely made sure he is. Uh, food, that is. I was sort of hoping you could help."

Lovino took a deep breath, beginning slowly, "Firstly, half of those things are myth and either a complete coincidence or he has no clue what will harm him either. They're animals, Feli, not supernatural magical faeries. He won't burn in the sun or have super strength and he won't dissolve upon entering a house uninvited. He probably isn't even allergic to garlic either, I mean, assuming he is one. The thing, about vampires you see, is they're more similar to humans than you'd think. Just…kind of permanently ill. They can't produce their own blood, and rely on the closest match – humans."

Feliciano nodded, again cursing himself for gesticulating to communicate so often, "So he'd show up in a photograph? And none of the stuff with bats or coffins? How do I tell then? And how do you even know all this?"

Lovino sighed, "Because I've seen and well, _apprehended _quite a few, and no. You really can't, unless you catch him feeding or he tells you. Which, if you say he's not feeding, might be a bit difficult to do. It's interesting really – I've seen several that are suicidal, and the species is swiftly going extinct, but I've never heard of one choose such a painful way to die."

"Suicidal? And how is the government letting them go extinct, shouldn't they have some conservationists lobbying?"

Lovino just sighed. "Wouldn't you be, if you had to kill people to survive, and you were morally aware of what you're doing? There's no other option for them Feli, it's eat or die. And why would they care? To them, it's just another epidemic slowly dying out. No more needless murders or serial killers. You're a bit to empathic with them, Feliciano, and it's sad, yes, but would you rather a hundred men died for every vampire left alive?"

Feliciano thought about it for a moment, "No," he whispered hoarsely, "So then what am I to do about Ludwig?"

"Corner him. Get him in a place where he can't strike out at you, or perhaps he's already ill enough he can't and ask him. There's no other way and maybe he won't tell you or he'll lie or you'll have missed the mark completely, but there's no way to tell otherwise and no way I'd let you get into trouble over this."

Feliciano smiled bitterly, "Hey, thanks Lovino, it means a lot to me, y'know, that you're still there for me."

"Hey and, after this, promise you'll call back? And not just for a follow up to this, I mean because we're family. And Marcello misses you…and I miss you too."

Feliciano could feel himself tearing up slightly, "Yeah…yeah, I promise. I miss you guys too, okay? And even if this doesn't work out, well…you are still my older brother."

"I love you."

"Love you too."

Feliciano slammed the receiver back into its charging port, staring helplessly as the screen flashed off. Pookie had left his lap by now, and he sat alone in his living room in his favorite leather armchair, too tired to really comprehend the conversation he'd just had, and the implications it held. Vampires, huh.

Ludwig was there the next day, and the next, and the next, and Feliciano was beginning to feel guilty, because today was the fourth morning after his call with Lovino and he still hadn't tried very hard, if at all. Probably because the idea just sounded stupid. Vampires. What was he, ten?

Feliciano sat down on the park bench by Ludwig again, acutely aware of the way the man shivered and shook, but tried his best to wave back. It was worrying, Feliciano's silly theories aside.

"Are you alright?"

Ludwig did not meet his eyes, very focused on his hands in his lap. "Just cold. Nothing much."

"Have you eaten today?" Feliciano wasn't sure with what context he was asking, but either one worked.

"No," the blonde whispered, eyes still cast down.

The brunet draped his arm about Ludwig's shoulder, drawing him near, "Please," he whispered, all too aware of the uncomfortable silence in the crisp autumn air, "Please do come to my house, I can make you something. It's no trouble."

Ludwig shuddered at Feliciano's touch, but did not lean away. He didn't seem to have the strength to resist today, eyes bleary and clouded from whatever illness held him, "Alright then."

Feliciano could see the blonde was not going to move himself, and drew himself upright, hand still resting lightly on Ludwig's shoulder. "Come along then, you look like you'd rather be inside."

Ludwig stood shakily, leaning back heavily on the bench. This was worrying to Feliciano, and he promptly offered to let Ludwig lean on his shoulder. The blonde's sharp blue eyes were bleak and fluttered slowly, and he whispered a very low, "Thank you," as if finally accepting of his position. Feliciano just smiled at them, beginning their tired trek down the street.

Ludwig was very quiet, and let Feliciano support him down the sidewalk, and lead him gently to his home and into the well-used leather chair, where he wasted no time covering the blonde in several blankets. His hand migrated to the pale man's forehead, again feeling no fever, in fact he was cold, and with his pulse so low it seemed to be fading.

"Ludwig?" the brunet whispered lightly, tucking the blankets tightly around his pale frame, "Do you have a place to go in the winter? I mean, other than the park, really."

Ludwig was avoiding his eyes yet again, staring blankly ahead, "It will be fine."

"So then you have a place? Or are you moving soon?"

Ludwig did not respond, closing his eyes slowly, and leaning back into the chair. He said nothing, but Feliciano understood. _He did not expect to be alive then_. Feliciano let his hand linger by the blonde's chin, wondering for a moment how this had come about, and what he realistically could do. For one, he decided, soup was very much in order, and there was no way he could let Ludwig return to the park bench, because he was very sure at this point that was where the pale man was living. It didn't really matter to him how new they were as friends anymore. How would he get to know him otherwise?

Feliciano migrated to the kitchen with ease, pacing back and forth as he set the pot up to boil. How was he to even ask that type of thing? Sure, Ludwig was ill, and sure, he fit the bill, but if Feliciano was wrong, what would the consequences be? As much as he hated to admit it, Ludwig was his only real friend since moving to the city, and without him, he would be quite alone with his cat again. Not to mention, Ludwig himself would be alone, and probably would pass with the cold of winter.

He had to ask.


	3. What Makes Us Human

_*note* There might be some confusion as to the extra members of the Vargas and Beilschmidt families. I have used all characters mentioned in cannon to be brothers. Marcello is Seborga, Adalbert is Saxony, Kristof is Hesse, Sigmund is Holstein, Wilhelm is Brandenburg, and Theodor is Bavaria. _

Feliciano again let Ludwig rest as he prepared the soup, this time borrowing some summer squash to thicken it, and mixing in his own produce as he saw fit, this time careful to avoid the tomatoes and basil. As he did all this, only one thing ran through his mind; how was he ever to ask Ludwig? Perhaps he worried too much, there wasn't much to be done with the wording, and he could always play it off as in the Halloween spirit or as a joke. He could always blame it on Lovino. Even after that, he still wasn't sure what to do in either outcome. The soup was finished far earlier than he would have liked, but he finished up anyways, gathering a small tray and bringing the soup to Ludwig, still dozing in the leather armchair.

Feliciano shook him lightly, the blonde's eyes fluttering open with effort, and Feliciano placed the tray gently in his lap, the blonde eyeing the food with lidded eyes. Feliciano sat on the sofa beside him, his own bowl of soup held loosely in his lap.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

The blonde did not reply directly, his attention very much on the soup in his hands. He fumbled with the spoon slightly, but seemed to have no qualms with the soup itself. "It's very good, thank you."

Feliciano smiled gently, knowing he had to ask now, at least one of his many questions was reasonable enough to warrant a proper response. "Well. I um, I called my brother recently. And uh, it got me thinking. About, you know, some of the things he does."

Ludwig looked up curiously from his soup, clearly aware of where this was headed.

"...And, ah, I was thinking, you know, some of the cases he made were very...relevant. I was wondering, um..."

Ludwig was by now staring down at the half empty bowl in his lap, and he grunted slightly, gaining Feliciano's attention. "Yes," he whispered softly.

Feliciano started, unsure of exactly what he was hearing, "Uh, excuse me? What exactly does that mean?"

Ludwig fiddled with the handle of his spoon, still not meeting Feliciano's eyes directly, "I know. What you mean, and what you said your brother does. And yes."

"But yes to what? And I mean, ah, I was sort of taking this in a weird direction anyways, but-"

Ludwig interrupted him once again, voice cracking very lightly. "What you were going to ask. And yes, I suppose I am."

"Oh." Feliciano sat back in his seat, biting his lip gently, unsure of where to take this next.

Ludwig stayed very quiet, his eyes focused on the half empty bowl in his hands.

"So," Feliciano began again, trying very hard to remain hospitable, "What will you do now?"

"As far as what? There is very little _to_ do."

Feliciano began playing with his own spoon, unsure how to properly ask this. "Well, what happened, you know, to leave you here? I mean, it's quite alright if you don't want to share, I know it can be a sensitive subject, I just worry about you, you know, because we're friends. I hope."

"You wouldn't want to be friends with me," he said this very quietly, and Feliciano could almost feel the resignation in the air.

"No, no, I insist, and you know, you really can tell me anything you need to. I'm worried about you, because you _are_ my friend."

Ludwig twitched, refusing to respond.

Feliciano bit his lip, "It's like you're hell-bent on dying."

"I have very little else to look forward to."

It saddened Feliciano to hear him say that, though he had already known it to be true. "Why is that? Does it have to do with your family?"

Ludwig sat in silence, thinking hard on what Feliciano had said. "I had six brothers and a mother and father. I guess they hoped that in having so many children at least one of us would survive. I loved them very dearly, and I never bothered making any friends or going to any schools or anything. They were all much older than me."

"What happened?"

Ludwig fiddled even more with his spoon, refusing to look Feliciano in the eye. "I told you already. They all died."

Feliciano hesitated here, he had no idea how to continue, but thankfully Ludwig continued for him, "My parents were already very old when I was born. They died earlier on, and I was passed to my oldest brother, Adalbert. You get very used to certain things growing up like that, like people not living quite as long and having to well, uh, eat certain things and it's very messy when you do that. And Adalbert said many times he didn't like it and he said to eat sparingly and he himself was too sparing, so he passed away. Then I spent a lot of time with my other brothers, and we all decided we ought to stick together and look out for each other. I thought a lot about all the things Adalbert had said. Especially whenever Sigmund talked about his friends. Sigmund liked to go drinking with some Scandinavian fellows and they got along quite well. And well, sometimes, when times were tough, we used to ask him why we couldn't just take his friends and I was still only thirteen and Sigmund got mad at us. And he left one night and didn't come back and we learned the next day he'd gotten into a bar fight and suffered massive blood loss and died. His friends came to visit, and we decided it was best not to take them, because no one else really had friends. And they didn't know and never asked us and assumed Sigmund had some blood clotting disorder and they gave us a few things. Then we moved finally, because we didn't want anyone to ask or to have to think about everything every time we went out and on a much smaller note, the police were tracking a supposed serial killer who never left a single drop of blood, no matter how the body was found, " Ludwig paused, and he shuddered here, and Feliciano understood; he'd been avoiding outright saying it, and he hated himself for it.

"Why don't you finish eating first? I'd hate for it to get cold on you," The brunet offered gently.

So Ludwig did, drinking the remaining soup fast and carelessly, as if trying to meet some arbitrary deadline. Feliciano looked to his own bowl, and deciding he was done, collected the dishes from Ludwig and deposited them in the sink. He returned to the sofa, stretching his arm across to touch the blonde's bicep, urging him to continue.

And so he did, facing more or less in Feliciano's direction this time, pouring out many things without thinking, and the brunet was upset by this, wondering if he had never had anyone to share with, "We wanted to move, you know, to somewhere rural. We couldn't go too far, because there wouldn't be enough people around. So we ended up in a shoddy lot in the suburbs of a moderately sized city - we never paid attention to names, mostly because we weren't very educated. Kristof was the closest to my age, he was nineteen. And he wanted very much to try new things and see places and meet people and he wasn't very careful - and he got a bit too ambitious in an alley one day and someone caught him and well, he was shot down. We got the message the next day there was a double homicide and Kristof had been supposedly high and attacked a dealer or something and someone had seen and shot him and well. All very shady. They said they'd investigate but there wasn't much they could do because he'd killed someone first and we didn't press any charges. We weren't sure if we should move. It was just me and Theodor and Wilhelm and Gilbert, who were twins. Theodor was the oldest, he said we should stay here because we didn't have much money to move..."

Ludwig paused for a moment, chewing nervously on his lip, "But what he didn't tell us was he'd begun drinking after mom and dad died and I think with so many of us dying he got very much worse. He would laze around and we'd be taking more care of him than he did of us and he'd always stink and not of dead things really. But like a sickly sweet thing he mixed up from vodka and energy drinks and hell, he even drank it in front of us sometimes because he'd say it was just the energy drink and - and I'm not very medically inclined but he overdosed, I think, and his heart just gave up one day."

"And then," Ludwig's voice was cracking horribly by now, "We lived like that for another three years, just the three of us and we moved to a smaller flat here and tried to just keep going but two years ago," Ludwig's hands were twitching restlessly, his voice soft and broken, "By then I was twenty but I tried to work to get money while the twins worked more on you know, food and - they got caught. They were convicted of nearly thirty murders in this city. And I was so stupid and lost and I sold all our things and wasted all my money trying to get them out because they were everything I had left and they told me to just play dumb and I did. I did because I was scared and they ended up ruling for a no bail life sentence and gave me a little card with a number to call every week at a certain time and. I'd wasted all my money on this worthless lawyer and I didn't have anything and so I started sitting on the park bench. Every Saturday at two I was allowed a thirty minute call and it kept me alive for a year. A whole year before they called me at the little payphone by the bench to say first Wilhelm had died of some blood related disorder, I knew what they meant. And Gilbert was distraught and things were very bad for him without Wilhelm and he never quite told me how he kept going so I suppose he had bitten people before and he was very frail on his last call and told me to take care of myself. And then he never called back."

"The prison never called back either, and for a few more months, I hung on by the payphone hoping they'd maybe call or I could get a job or somehow someone else would come home or – I don't really know. I gave up after a while, and I never wanted to actually call them back to find out. I still don't. I just want it to end already, so I can see them all again. And somehow you came in."

Ludwig was by now sobbing softly into the hem of the blankets, his confusion and tired resignation pouring through his gentle wracking motions, and Feliciano had very little else on his mind than _what the hell was he supposed to do._ He'd asked, oh yes, and he'd got an answer like he wanted and Ludwig had opened up about everything and yet; here he was, sitting in an armchair with a dying monster who seemed all too much like a man and with little idea of what to do.

Ludwig couldn't go back out there, not like this. He was a complete mess and cold and weak and Feliciano was reminded once more they weren't the greatest of friends, but something about the pale man was very sincere. He was honest in everything, whether happy or sad or un-affecting, he was childlike in his honesty. And Feliciano felt obligated to protect that, because he had no one else and something in this reminded him of his own family, less so in the death, but more so in the isolation.

"Ludwig, why don't you stay here for the night?" Feliciano began, hoping he didn't sound too out of place, "I have a spare bedroom, and I really don't mind if you'd like to stay." A day. Or two or three or however many, Feliciano wanted to say, wanted to comfort the pale blonde in his armchair.

"No," he whispered, still sniffling slightly, "No, I need to go home."

"Ludwig," Feliciano didn't want to be too stern, but Ludwig literally lived on a park bench, "Please. I can't let you go back out there. You'll be too cold, and I think you're coming down with something." Coming down with something was a very light way of putting it. _You look like you're at death's door._

"I can't be a burden to you, you're really too kind." Ludwig was struggling to stand, hauling himself out from under the blankets.

"Please, I insist. Stay."

But Ludwig wasn't listening, his hooded, now red and puffy eyes focused only on the door, his limping pace only barely supported by the wall. He tottered dangerously as he reached the hall, and Feliciano had very little clue how to halt him, besides keeping the door locked, and wasn't that technically illegal? He wasn't sure but the tottering stopped quite suddenly and the lidded eyes rolled back and Feliciano was half certain he had seen this coming a kilometer away.

His fingers had never punched out a number so quickly, finishing before the shallow _thunk_ of the body hitting the floor.

_"Hello, this is 112, what is your emergency?"_


	4. It's Only Love, It's Only Pain

It reminded him a lot of when Nonno had died. All the cords and wires and tubes and machines showing tiny readings and measurements and pumping where his heart should have been. Most ominous was the red bag suspended from a post, only a thin tube connecting the precious liquid to the patient below. Feliciano sat with dry lips and a parched throat, helplessly in the visitor's seat of the Intensive Care Unit, beside the bed of a certain Ludwig Beilschmidt, wondering if all was worth it.

They'd had a lot of difficulty admitting him and letting Feliciano in. The pale man had very few medical records, but they'd been able to match him to a last name and confirm, as Feliciano had told them, he had no living relatives. Forcing his was into the unit itself was more difficult, because the secretary had time to tell him why he couldn't go in, now that someone's life was no longer dependent upon how fast they processed him. They'd let him in sometime in the earliest hours of the morning, and he'd fallen asleep in the waiting room by then but was pleased they were letting him in at last.

So here he sat, pondering upon all they'd told him, and wondering how ever he was supposed to afford this. The Beilschmidts' insurance hadn't been paid in years and there was nothing much in it anyways, it was already drained by the deaths of eight others. The doctor herself had been very understanding, apologizing for the actions of the secretary, and explaining patiently to him what was to happen to his friend. She'd promised to do all in their power, and proposed several plans of actions, and the potential financial agreements they could make.

The doctors hadn't really known what to make of it. They couldn't quite pinpoint a disease that caused it, but they'd said he had little to no bone marrow, and it had probably been degenerating since birth, and would continue without medical aid. Feliciano held his tongue, agreeing that must have been the case. So they'd ushered him in and plugged in all sorts of wires and tubes and began pumping the precious liquid into him. Ludwig was type AB positive, they'd said, which was lucky because they'd always have something to give him. Feliciano had the fleeting thought of why that was, and resolved never to think on it again, and just thank the lord he was, even if it was at the expense of several human lives. Whatever blood type he was meant to have, it would have mixed anyways. Then came discussion of the cure.

It was expensive, and his insurance didn't extend over this in any way at all, and the doctor had said he had two options; one, was to bring him in weekly for check-ups and transfusions; or two, to undergo a complete marrow transplant, which might take a month or two to even find a donor of that much marrow, but he'd be mostly capable of creating his own blood. There was technically a third option, which was pulling the plug completely, but god forbid it ever came to that.

To Feliciano, it was as much a moral dilemma as a financial one. The financial issue was easier in theory - in the long term, a transplant would save more money than weekly transfusions, though it would mean a greater down payment. Nonno had had a lot of money, most of it left untouched - the problem was, Lovino as the oldest was in charge of that as well as the will. And getting Lovino to agree to fund the surgery of Feliciano's vampiric friend he'd never met and in fact dedicated most of his life to eradicating the species; well, that was almost out of the question. But letting Ludwig die was even further out of the question, and he'd signed the forms and authorized the search for donors. Now all he could do was stare at the hospital bed and wait. He could also call Lovino, but such a task would be easier when the operation was complete and Lovino couldn't tell him to back out.

The moral dilemma, on the other hand, was not so easily solved, and surely the method of rhetoric Lovino would appeal to. The moral dilemma being the fact Ludwig had tried so hard to avoid in his tale and Feliciano even now feared to let his thoughts stray to. Ludwig had most definitely murdered someone, if not several tens of people in order to be alive to this day, regardless of how many siblings he'd had to care for him. After all, he'd been alone for two years without any aid. He was clearly disgusted with himself, but even then, such a development was not enough to erase the deed itself. Lovino knew this too, and Lovino would not like it. Feliciano himself was uncomfortable, but his discomfort was balanced with his empathy and logic, logic that dictated no matter what type of person Ludwig was he was trapped in that situation; and empathy, which spoke softly and tore at the edges of Feliciano's heartstrings, telling him this was right and Ludwig himself was too gentle and calm for the allegations Lovino would surely make.

Was Feliciano too trusting? Ludwig did not seem to be lying or using him, but the fact remained he was an entirely different entity Feliciano had never encountered before.

The days could not have passed by slower.

There was nothing much to be done in visiting Ludwig daily, he was incapable of responding, though they said he may be able to hear anyhow. It took exactly twenty one days to see any progress made in finding suitable donors, and about a week more before they actually underwent surgery. On the twenty-ninth day, they had told Feliciano the costs of the surgery itself, and the total was over _fifty-thousand euro_, not counting medications he'd need upon coming home and depending on how much longer he'd need to be in the hospital. Lovino would not be pleased, and neither was Feliciano.

Withdrawing Ludwig too early could be dangerous, and they'd gone over all the benefits and potential problems but ultimately Feliciano was not going to be financially ruined by this and he'd opted to have Ludwig put up in his guest room for the next six months rather than deal with the hospital bills. It was not ideal, but far more ideal than letting either one of them pay for the ridiculous fares without proper insurance.

Ludwig was very faintly awake, and seeing the body moving in the bed and underneath all of the tubes was disturbing to Feliciano. Suddenly he felt all too aware of how thin the blonde had been and was under all the coats and blankets, just how hollow and pale he truly was. It would be a few more days before he could even begin to think about going home, and even then, walking was very much out of the question. There were prescriptions too; painkillers and hormones meant to help with the growth –he had avoided a decent cost by attempting stem cell transplants, but that of course came with the consequence of more medications and potential problems later on. It all made little difference to Feliciano, he wasn't highly educated in medicine, but was quite certain he could follow the list of instructions they'd given him.

So a little over a month after being admitted, Feliciano was moving the groggy man carefully to his car, aware of the fact he'd soon be billed and have to make the fated call to Lovino. Ludwig was somewhat aware of where he was, much less of what had happened, but he seemed to be very content to be moving anywhere far away from the dreary room in the hospital. He had back his usual thick wool coat and trousers, and Feliciano had brought him a scarf, worried the November chills may have been too much for him, even if he was supposedly maintaining a steady temperature now. Ludwig did not speak, leaning his head tiredly on the headrest of the seat, eyelids closing heavily. Feliciano understood as much from his motions, slow and tired rolls of the head and gentle sighs, he had neither the energy to speak nor the words he would need to express the conflict he felt.

He hadn't made even a noise of protest from the day he had woken up, seemingly quite confused by well – everything, but mostly by Feliciano himself, of which didn't really make sense, but Feliciano was far from bothering to question the peculiar behavior; too much had transpired to be shocked by that reaction. Ludwig was much too tired to listen as Feliciano chattered excitedly at the wheel, telling him how really wonderful it was that they'd been able to heal him and maybe now things wouldn't have to be _that_ way and – o_h dear, he's fallen asleep again. _Feliciano gave a small smile at that, returning his attention to the road and his thoughts to grimmer matters.

He'd gotten Ludwig into the guest room quite easily, for how large he was, anyways. He couldn't help but smile at that; for once the pale man looked peaceful and childlike, tucked away into a dream and finally secured between the cream sheets and mahogany headboard, head tilting back into the down pillows. The only thing that remained, really, was to contact Lovino – and most likely, the faster, the better. It had been over a month since they'd last talked, and normally, Feliciano wouldn't have cared but he was beginning to feel guilty, to say the least.

Sure, maybe Lovino _was_ a bit crazy for going after vampires, whether they were real or not. But Lovino was also his brother, and he'd shut him out for nearly three years and it had really all been needless and for too long but picking up the phone and talking might make their relationship worse and certainly it was nice Lovino had helped him, but that said very little about how many of Feliciano's antics he could handle if he only heard from him at times like this. At times when he needed help.

And this wasn't just asking for advice or help with a job interview – he was asking for a ridiculous amount of money, for the surgery of one of his friends whom Lovino had never met. What could he possibly use to his advantage?

Yet still his trembling fingers reached for the receiver, sitting down in his favorite leather chair in the living room, beckoning to his fat old cat to come and sit in his lap. It reminded him too much of the previous time, and now was very different. He punched in the number precariously slow, like one wrong move could destroy everything. The phone rung three times before it was picked up.

"Hello? Feliciano?"

"Hey," He was pretty sure his voice was squeaking already, "It's me again."

"Did you need something?" The dry tone made it clear Lovino was not up to playing games.

"Um, yes actually, you do remember my friend, don't you?"

"What about him."

Lovino was not making this easy. "Um well. It turns out I was right and, you know, he was."

"So what did you do? It's been over a month. If he's still not eating he's dead."

Feliciano huffed impatiently, "No, he's still alive and he's quite fine, thank you."

Lovino's tone became dangerous immediately. "So you helped him? How could you?!"

"Well yes, I did. But not in the way you're thinking. He kind of passed out at my house and I brought him to the hospital and," Feliciano paused to breathe deeply before continuing, "They did a bone marrow transplant, you know, the things they do with stem cells to get more to grow – well, they did that and he seems fine and he came home today and well, I thought about you."

"What would cause you to think about me?"

"Um well. Just. A lot of things really, but I –"

"You need money, don't you?" Lovino hissed at him, clucking his tongue indignantly, "You need money to pay for your "friend's" operation because you never bother to think things through and the only reason _you_ would _ever_ call me is because you need help. And right now you don't care about anything I've got to say, you're just after the money."

"Lovino!" Feliciano cursed himself for not bringing it up himself, but he could not afford to lose this argument, "Lovino, look. I didn't know what else to do. I don't want him to die but he didn't have any money and Lovino, you know Nonno had a lot of money in the bank and a lot of stocks and well, you have all of those! I just need to put enough of a down payment I won't go bankrupt or have to move, I know we don't talk much just –"

"Yeah, you just want the money, you're going to take it and leave again, this time with your deranged vampire friend and we're never going to see you again and then a few years down the line we'll find out you've gone and died from overdose or better yet – murdered by your so called friend! I can't let you do that Feliciano, I already had to lose you once and now-!"

"And now we could be a family again! Lovino, please, I know I've been horrible to you, I've been horrible to poor Marcello and I left for stupid reasons but please, please, please, just help me out this once. I," Feliciano was starting to blubber, and he wasn't sure if this would help or hinder him but, "I miss you so much, okay, and I've made some pretty stupid mistakes in my life but so have you and you have to, Lovino. You have to. He'll die otherwise."

"Good riddance."

"Lovino! How could you say that - ?!"

"Look it, Feliciano, I've been around the block a few more times than you. Whatever about this – _thing_- that captivated you, you can't trust him. I've seen so many of them and they're all the same. He's just clever Feli, and you fell right into it. You can still make things right. Come home, leave him his own bills to pay, just come home already, okay?"

"No," Feliciano croaked, "No. No, no no! Lovino please!"

"I don't want to hear it, Feliciano, you and I both know what's been going on here, you ought to just leave him be and come home, okay? We can fix all of this still."

"Fine. Fine. You win Lovino. Are you happy now? My only friend is going to die and I'll come home and rot at home and you'll be having a jolly good time never caring enough to even say hello because 'oh look at how great Marcello is!' and I'll have no one to talk to anymore because you'll – you'll have killed him. It'll be just like the good old times. Won't it?"

"Feliciano-"

"I don't care," He was definitely crying by now, "I don't care. You won't even meet him or let me talk and it's not like you even care – you only care because I want to use the money you're hoarding."

"Feliciano, no. Please don't do this to me. You and I both know that's not what happened. Tell you what – I'll stop by for a week to visit before we go home, okay? I'll come visit and we can talk and you don't have to do this."

"…It's not like it even matters anyways, you still won't listen."

"Feli-"

But the dial tone sounded, and emerald eyes were left watery, curses leaving pursed lips as the darker haired man sank to the floor. A muffled yell sounded from downstairs.

"It's nothing, Marcello, never you worry."

Oh, how he wished it was only that, he thought, resting his weary head in the crook of his elbow, rocking back and forth with the force of his gentle sobbing.


	5. It's Only Fear

_Thanks very much for your reviews and notes ;w; It really motivates me!_

The next day was much the same as any other for Feliciano, with the exception being it was Sunday and he _did _have someone else sharing the house with him, which was very different, but very okay, he decided. Very okay in that it gave him something useful to do other than binge watch some stupid soap opera or draw another thousand doodles of his brick of a cat. Speaking of which, where was that fat hairball anyhow?

Feliciano slunk through the hall of his upper floor as quietly as he could, wondering if perhaps, it was alright to check in on Ludwig in the guest room, or if that would be rude or unnecessary or if he should wait but – but Ludwig couldn't quite move anyhow so he would have to barge in at some point. It would be less rude if he woke him up bearing food, he surmised, passing by the door after a moment of hesitation. What was it he couldn't give him again? Something with making sure he had high sugar and calorie intake, and some monitor or another he could use to test how much circulated. What felt about right was some tea, whether or not it would do him any good was questionable but so were many other things he'd done. There was always toast and eggs, but maybe it was easier to just take out some canned soup, at least that way he could be sure the blonde would take it down. It felt like a step down from his usual homemade meals, but then again, he was certain the pale man wasn't that much of a gourmet, if at all.

Feliciano shouldered open the thin white door with care, carefully placing the food on the nightstand. Ludwig was still fast asleep, his pulse monitor blinking steadily with his heartbeat, and hair askew, rendering him very much like an innocent child. Which to some extent, Feliciano considered, he must have been, trapped in a strange world and stoically stubborn until the end. And of course, there was his oversized cat, napping between the crook of the blonde's arm. It was peaceful for once, and it made Feliciano smile slightly, yet he knew soon he would have to return to work and Lovino would visit and this peace did not come without a dastardly expense.

So he resolved, instead, to gently elevate the sleeping man to a sitting position, but as his hands reached around the broad chest, auburn eyes met electric blue once more.

"Oh!"

The blue eyes blinked rapidly, and he stuttered slightly, "U-um, hello. What. What were you doing?"

"I'm just-"

Ludwig seemed to figure it out when Feliciano continued to prop him up with all of the pillows, protesting further, "You really don't have to-"

"Yes I do," Feliciano chuckled in reply, "You're not going anywhere until I say so, alright? Besides," he continued, hauling Ludwig back onto the pillows with one final heave (and scattering the cat quite quickly too), "I figure you'll be more comfortable like this."

"Well yes," the blonde retorted, before slipping back to his usual soft tone, "Thank you for that."

"Well then!" Feliciano exclaimed, clapping his hands together briskly, "Did you want to eat now? I have tea and chicken noodle soup, I hope you don't mind, I wasn't sure if you'd want solids."

"That's fine, thank you." He muttered, hand reaching over to the nightstand clumsily, "Didn't I need to…ah…"

"Oh, your pills, right?" You really have to sit back okay? I wouldn't want you straining something."

Ludwig snorted at him, but accepted both the food and the addition of Feliciano's weight to the bed. He eyed his pills warily, and Feliciano recognized immediately what he needed.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I'll get you some juice too, just hang on."

Ludwig blinked back almost bashfully, like he didn't quite know what to make of Feliciano taking care of him.

The morning proceeded very much like this, with Ludwig maintaining a respectful silence that was almost _unnerving. _He ate and took his medication and Feliciano tried for some light conversation, but most of it went unanswered. At long last he decided there was little else to touch base on than the more serious stuff, a tragedy really. He'd liked to have kept things happy for at least a while longer. But in all honesty, the sooner he solved his problems, the better.

"Well, Ludwig, you know," He began, all too aware of how many extra words he was including in his speech, "I do have to go back to work tomorrow, of course. And I suppose that means you'll be alone most of the day. And well, for most days of the week so, so I was wondering what you wanted to do for that time. I'll leave you the landline and emergency numbers, including mine but I have some books you know, or maybe you wanted me to move a television in here?"

"I suppose I'd like to read some," He still wasn't making eye contact, "I didn't have many books growing up."

"Oh, is that so? Well, what kinds would you want to read? I have some classics and a few young adult novels that were rated pretty high, I've got some reference books and a few cook manuals, though I doubt you'd want that."

Ludwig paused, thinking on it. "I-I don't really know. Whatever you think is good. But...probably something fictitious."

"Hm," Feliciano smiled, "I suppose I could give you some fairytales. I have a copy of Brother's Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson. They can be a bit gory at times but most end happily, if that's okay."

"That sounds fine, I'd hate to bother you," Ludwig was again gnawing nervously on his lips.

"Believe me," Feliciano said, with a drawn out sigh, "You are far from the most bothersome thing in my life right now."

.

Ludwig nodded softly, "I know. I heard."

Ludwig stared down at his lap, and Feliciano was struck with a momentary jab of pain as he remembered the call with Lovino the previous night. It was not a thing Ludwig should have heard. He was already sick enough without being told he was an extremely large financial burden. It was less so the money and more so his relationship with Lovino that bothered him. Lovino had a quick temper and Feliciano knew better than anyone how to get on his nerves, whether intentional or not. Lovino would be calling back soon, either to say when he was coming or try to convince Feliciano to come back home, or if he was lucky maybe he would have a change of heart and send money. There was little else to do about that situation until Lovino himself presented it. So here he sat, at the foot of Ludwig's bed, wondering just what he could do in the meantime. Ludwig was nodding off again, the blinking of the pulse monitor slowing with the gentle movements of his sleeping form.

Feliciano was alone with his thoughts again.

The next three days all proceeded in a similar manner; Feliciano got up, made breakfast, and packed two lunches, one in his own box for work, and the other in a small cooler he left on the nightstand for Ludwig. He fed them both and gave Ludwig something to read or do for that day, and then he marched off to work. He came home at around five every day, and he checked in with Ludwig, who was always deep in his books, and collected the dishes and set about making dinner. He'd then bring dinner up and they'd sit and chatter about idle, silly things like what book Ludwig was reading now or how work was going and really anything other than their impending problems. And Feliciano took readings from all of Ludwig's monitors and kept a little chart for himself, noting how much steadier he seemed as of now.

Lovino called back on the fourth day, saying he was visiting for the whole of next week.

"The whole week? I haven't a guest room open anymore, you know…"

Lovino huffed back in reply, "I'm aware of that, idiot. I don't trust you with that anyways so I'll bring an inflatable mattress."

"You know I can't afford a vacation next week," Feliciano muttered, marking the days off on his calendar, "I'll be at work for most of the time five of those days."

"You can trust me in your house, can't you?"

"I can, but," Feliciano paused, unsure of how to word this, "But he's here and I don't really trust you to play nice, to be totally honest."

Lovino snorted, "Feliciano, you're too attached to the beast. He needs a bit of abrasive questioning to tell us what exactly he plans."

"But he's bedridden, Lovino. You lay a hand on him and I'll-I'll flay you." Feliciano bit his tongue, hoping he'd sounded strong enough.

"Feliciano, listen to me, you clearly don't know where to draw the line between a person and a – a monster. That _thing_ just wants to use you to fix himself. And once this all is over he'll leave you and the bills behind and start anew with the leg up you've given him. I doubt he even gave you his real name."

"He did! I have his medical and family history, Lovino, he's not trying to do anything like that. Have a little faith, won't you? This is exactly why I'm scared to leave you two alone with each other," Feliciano's voice dropped a little lower, "Someone is bound to get hurt, one way or another."

"You don't trust me enough, do you? Look, I've already taken next week off and told Marcello and I'll be there whether you like it or not, because we need to solve this problem, the sooner the better. Maybe once I'm there you'll see things my way, okay?"

Feliciano grunted in mock laughter, "Oh yes, it's always like that for you, isn't it? 'It's my way or the highway.' Isn't it, Lovino? You can't just accept you might be even the slightest bit wrong. And it's a bit hypocritical, don't you think? I'm just supposed to respect you and hate him, but I guarantee you've committed the same number of _murders_ in the name of your so-called justice. Hm? Isn't that how it is and how it's been? You don't care. You just want him dead and me back under your wing."

"You always take things too far, Feli," Lovino mused, "No matter what I say it always comes back to that. I'm trying to do what's best for you. What's best for us. And sometimes what's best for the family isn't always the way you want things to work out. Why can't you just see what he's done to you?"

"Nothing about me has changed. Nothing about you has changed either, it seems. But it seems you'll be coming regardless, and my previous statement still stands. You harm a single hair on his body and I'll be more than glad to skin you."

"So violent. I do hope you'll be a bit calmer when I'm there." Lovino was using that same irritatingly smooth tone he used whenever he taunted someone, that tone that drove Feliciano mad and surely his brother knew it.

But he pushed off these passions, breathing heavily through his nose and speaking through his teeth, "Yeah, It'll be great to see you here, maybe we'll be able to settle our differences finally."

"Wouldn't that be nice."

"Yeah. Sure would. Sure would."

Feliciano hung up there, slamming the phone back into the charging port and cursing quietly. Things always escalated far too quickly between him and his brother, that much was for sure, but sometimes he wondered which of them was truly the more stubborn or insolent of the lot. Marcello had grown up with all the fighting, too much of the fighting and it sickened him how he was always used as the excuse in the argument. _"Don't do this it'll scar Marcello," "Don't do that, think about poor Marcello," "Marcello needs you in his life, how could you?"_ Marcello didn't need any of this, and if he was smart, once he graduated, he'd never go back. They were a broken, broken family, and sometimes it broke Feliciano's heart to think on it too much.

Which he really shouldn't, because now he had Ludwig, and hadn't Nonno always said friends are the family you choose for yourself. Ludwig to him was a little piece of joy, a little childlike friend he could teach and pretend was his own younger brother and for a moment forget he had any troubles with his own brothers, and focus instead on providing for someone, having that much needed purpose in the dull monotony of his everyday life. Ludwig had probably heard most of the phone call, but it was best to tell him anyways.

Friday was much the same as the rest of the week, and Saturday Feliciano had moved a small television in to Ludwig's room and they'd watched an entire season of some silly romance soap opera (which Ludwig seemed really really hooked on and it kind of was cute and Feliciano kind of giggled a bit and _maybe_ ruffled his hair). On Sunday he'd showed Ludwig a few of his favorite board games and it was really, really amazing to see the sharp teeth pulled back into a smile instead of eternally hidden and Feliciano secretly wished all of his life could be like this, but he knew he'd have to see Lovino again very soon for things to stay this way.

Monday evening was characterized by a red Ferrari, polished and brand new and a clear testimony to what Lovino was withholding, parked in the driveway of Feliciano's small yellow townhouse. There was a knock at the door soon after, and there was Lovino, holding several bags and his emerald eyes sparkling with a newfound rage despite the weary bags beneath them.

"Do you mind helping me unpack?"


	6. Reminiscing in My Hate for You

_Sorry it took me nearly two weeks to update - but for that I'll work twice as hard to get the next updates, thanks for all your kind reviews 3_

Feliciano groaned audibly, and Lovino returned the same deadpan glare as before. "Sure Lovino, sure. I cleaned out my studio yesterday, you should be able to fit the mattress and everything just fine."

Lovino nodded politely, and handed off his bags to Feliciano, retrieving the air mattress from the trunk, before locking his well-to-do car and clambering up the porch steps and over the threshold of Feliciano Vargas' house. He settled into the studio all too quickly for Feliciano's liking, having scowled at the mess of paints and pencils strewn across the desks, but still settling with an alarming speed.

Alarming in that Feliciano knew without a doubt what Lovino would want to see next. Even as he had led Lovino down the hall to the studio, he had caught emerald eyes peeking between doorframes and scouring the halls for any other form of life.

"You still have that fat cat?"

"I do," Feliciano huffed, "Is there a problem with that as well?"

"No, simply observing."

Feliciano pursed his lips, leaning back against the frame of the door into the studio, "I know what you're looking for, Lovino, or more specifically who, and I think you really should spend a bit more time with me first, don't you? We are still brothers, aren't we?"

"I'm offended you should think that lowly of me," He scowled bitterly, rising up to follow Feliciano to the door, "Though I haven't been here in a few years, perhaps a tour is in order? It certainly looks nicer than the day you bought it."

"Thank you, Lovino, though I think you'll find the layout is much the same, just newer furniture."

"Still, I'd love to be shown around." Lovino's eyes flashed dangerously, and Feliciano was quite certain he knew what the elder meant by that.

"Very well, you can, but get this one thing straight; you touch him and you're out of here," Feliciano growled, drawing himself near to the taller man's eyes.

"Funny," Lovino stated, and there was a gentle quirk to his lips, "You were always adamant we shouldn't call you straight."

Feliciano gave a half-hearted chuckle, glad that Lovino was at least trying, if only _somewhat_, to keep them together, "Hm, and you as well, Lovino. You were quite certain I was only copying you. Funny how it all works out."

"Quite." Short and dry, the statement illustrated to Feliciano once again how his brother's attention was not truly on him.

"Very well," Feliciano nodded, leading the elder back to the firmly shut oak door of the guest room on the second floor, pausing for a moment to note the white paint was cracked and chipped in places and well – enough of that. He was nervous, and he hated being nervous but his fingers still shook as he grabbed the knob and turned it oh so gently and his palms were just the littlest bit sweaty and he _was not_ chewing on his lip as he let himself and Lovino in to the occupied guest room. "Ah, Lovino, this is Ludwig. Ludwig, this is my older brother Lovino."

Shakily, the tired blonde in the bed extended his arm in the direction of the darker brunet, though the man did not move to take it, emerald eyes only narrowing further at the sight of the pale shaking arm. Ludwig withdrew his hand quickly, uncertainly, electric blue eyes staring confusedly at the still-silent Lovino, who was currently quite occupied inspecting the entirety of the pale man like he was some foreign alien, a slight frown evident on his face. At last he spoke, a single, hollow word, "Pleasure."

Feliciano was uncomfortable with the intense glare Lovino seemed to have reserved for the blonde, eyeing him at times with cold indifference and seemingly, at small moments, like a piece of meat. Without uttering a single word more to Ludwig himself, he turned to Feliciano.

"You wouldn't mind me having a look at him, would you? I've rarely seen one alive before."

Feliciano spluttered, unsure of how to properly respond, "You-you want to what? And why are you asking me, not him? What does that even mean?"

"Nothing too serious, you'll have to understand, it's important to my research. I'd just like to have a little look, see how it works, maybe take a look at the teeth while he's incapable of biting back, you know what I meant. Not to mention, you can't expect me to leave here without knowing his motives or history – I can't let you get into that much trouble. And once we've determined his motives," Ah yes, here it came, that same stupid thing he'd been saying all along, "You'll finally come home and we can fix all of this."

"Lovino, that's complete nonsense – I mean for starters, you can't ask me for permission to prod someone else! And why would you need to ask him for all that, I have all the files for his medical records and family history, you don't need to bother. Nor do you need to be so rude – you've barely even introduced yourself!"

Lovino scoffed, his gaze shifting from Feliciano to the confused face in the bed between them. "Very well, but believe me, if he tries anything funny, neither of you will have the luxury of privacy – as I'm quite certain something else is going on here."

Feliciano snorted in return, but accepted anyways. "Well, why don't you come get something to eat, since you seem to be doing more harm than good to my guest – for which I am really very sorry, Ludwig, I'll be back up in a minute."

Ludwig nodded, his eyes following Lovino's retreating form apprehensively, hands folding back into his lap. Feliciano exited behind his brother, smiling sympathetically at the large blond, who leaned back in his pillow as he shut the door gently shut behind him.

"What the hell, Lovino! I didn't bring you in there to harass him! Clearly you and I need to have a long talk before I can let you anywhere near him!"

For as angry as Feliciano was, Lovino was twice that, "I don't understand how you can simply tolerate him in your home – in one of your beds! Heaven knows what he's planning, and even if he's not, he's already got what he wanted. Your money, time and food! What I want to do is entirely justified given the situation, and probably necessary for both my research and your safety – which, by the way, hinges on _my_ decision to lend you anything. Like I've said, I'm sure you'll come around once I prove it to you."

Feliciano huffed in exasperation, leading Lovino down the stairs, thudding heavily down to the kitchen counter, pulling out several tea bags and a pot of penne he had prepared earlier.

"White sauce, red sauce, or fresh tomato and basil?"

"Tomato and basil sounds fine, though I'd hate to make you work too hard," Lovino's voice had already evened out, as if nothing has happened at all.

"Sure thing," Feliciano murmured, concentrating on the task at hand. A task which usually reduced him to shaking and thinking about everything he had left behind, a task now much simpler that he had the object of his thoughts right behind him, the person he half wanted back half wanted to skewer on the end of his own sharp words. Lovino did not bother to watch, seating himself at the dining room table quite easily, and pulling out his phone, doubtlessly texting a friend how _stupid_ or _stubborn_ his little brother was. Well.

Well, he thought, pouring the tomatoes out over the penne, Lovino would have to reform, even just a little, if he wanted Feliciano back in his life. He was a little shocked at how forcefully he shoved the plate in Lovino's direction, but satisfied all the same. He didn't have any really fine wines – a simple red would have to do, but perhaps Lovino wouldn't mind? Ah, it was a silly question, of course he's mind, the gourmet was ever grounded in the life of riches, and heaven knows how he was even tolerating the modest size of Feliciano's townhouse.

It had begun with their grandfather, Romulus Vargas, who was always a down to earth working man, though he did enjoy indulging, quite often, actually, which led to him having many sons to at least two mothers, and the mother of the Vargas grandchildren themselves. All this and he was still beneath the age of thirty, with a solid family owned restaurant in Rome and a decent fortune beneath him. His fortune had only increased when he expanded into several more buildings across town, and soon, he had an intranational business success. He had always been unclear as to what had actually happened to his daughter, but from what Feliciano had pieced together, she had run off with some man, dropped her kids off with Romulus as she had them, and never really came back after Marcello was born. Romulus hadn't minded – he was successful and wealthy, and could easily afford a nanny or house cleaners – what he had minded was the loss of his only daughter. He'd taken them on several occasions to meet their grandmothers, Aegyptus and Helena, never specifying which one was their actual grandmother, though the three seemed to get along quite well, and Romulus frequently sent them gifts and vouchers to his restaurant – something Helena hadn't been able to stop laughing at (_Just as self-centered as the day I met him_!), and none of that really mattered to Feliciano anyways, as long as they all were happy, he didn't mind not having a nuclear family. Lovino had been old enough he did mind, remembering their mother quite well, and promising the rest of them quite frequently he would find her again and make her proud and make her sorry she'd left them all. Romulus had smiled endearingly at him, but Feliciano had noted he always held a trace of sadness in his eyes when they spoke of her.

Their nanny had been quite wonderful too, her name was Erzsébet Héderváry, and she'd stayed with them most of the time, watching them so as Romulus could work. She was light and fun and loved children and was very, very good with them all, and probably one of the greatest influences Feliciano had in his younger life, which made him wonder, perhaps, if that was why he was so different from his brothers. When Feliciano was thirteen, his grandfather had finally introduced him to the wild notion of monster hunting – protecting the village and whatever else honor and glory. Lovino had already known about this himself for the past three years, and he had eaten the concept up, and was ridiculously pleased his younger brother could now join him in learning to track the things. To Feliciano, however, it did not sound like an adventure, firstly, it sounded unrealistic and like any story an old grandparent told to keep their children up at night, and secondly, it sounded downright cruel and possibly illegal.

So he'd mentioned some of this to Erzsébet, hoping for perhaps the slightest aid, and she had been just as confused as he was, but told him ultimately not to worry, things would sort themselves out and he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, or anything he didn't believe in, and he had the right to determine those things for himself. Feliciano distinctly remembered just sitting there on the sofa in her embrace, pleased with both himself and the advice of his mother-figure. Lovino had scowled at him when the younger had said he'd rather not get involved, but Romulus had nodded understandingly, agreeing that yes the practice was quite old and the threat had died down a lot. Feliciano had rolled his eyes, always telling himself this was all nonsense anyways and they'd get over it soon enough.

In his eleventh year of school, Erzsébet was engaged to some Austrian pianist, and packed her things away to move to Vienna with him. It was fine, he'd tried to say many times, he was seventeen and certainly no longer needed a nanny, but he'd missed her all the same, wondering how often was too often to call and check in. While Feliciano was one of the more popular boys in school, he felt rather alone at home, with just his mildly overweight cat to confide in completely. Lovino had graduated from university the same year Feliciano entered, and within two years, at the age of twenty, Feliciano received word Romulus Vargas had passed away in bed from heart failure.

Lovino had already taken control of the Vargas Empire, as he liked to call it, with plans to expand internationally, and run all sorts of promotions honoring the fallen founder of the company. Feliciano hadn't seen him much, after the funeral, and after they had all gathered to read their grandfather's will. Romulus had split his fortunes equally between the three of his grandsons, while offering certain gifts to his other sons and ex-wives as he saw fit; but the vast majority of his monetary wealth remained with the house and the three Vargas children, who each had their own dreams as to what they would do with such wealth. Lovino had shut the lid on any of that, however, when he took sole ownership of Romulus' accounts and will, stating the other two really ought to finish their schooling first, while he managed the company, and then once they were done they could access their share. Feliciano hadn't minded much – he had only two years of school left, and then he was looking forward to taking his share and leaving to travel for a bit, maybe try to find something for himself outside of the dinner business.

So he'd done just that – gotten a business major, and a minor in language, and prepared himself to travel as soon as he'd come home, telling Marcello and Lovino excitedly of his plans, and how he hoped to do great things and meet many people and maybe even fall in love and none of his plans included helping the Vargas Empire or hunting malicious fairy tale creatures. Lovino would have none of it, telling him he was an idiot and his plans would squabble all their savings quickly and he'd get married too young and refusing to grant Feliciano access to his share of Romulus' inheritance. And so, at the age of twenty-two, he had moved out of the rich manor the three brothers shared and up to Milano, where he established himself in an entry level business position taking calls, and tried his best to cut out his well-to-do brothers from his world. He would have preferred Venice, but tourism made the city far too expensive.

So here he was at twenty-four, his brother seated beside him once more, still trying desperately to get at what he was promised, and possibly gain his family back in the process.


	7. If We Could Only Agree

"Hey, Lovino, you have any plans while you're up here?" Feliciano didn't bother to look up from his dish, trying still to keep his voice level, "You know, plans in town, aside from harassing me and my friend."

Lovino glared at him from the corner of his eye, shifting back down to his plate after some time, "Your 'friend' is a blood-sucking demon. I've told you this already, you're just too young and reckless to be playing with this kind of fire. You should have stayed at home with us, helped us run the business."

"Ooooh, but I'm sure you were all mature and ready to take on the whole world at age twenty-four, am I right?"

Lovino scoffed, "I've always been a bit more level-headed than you. You know that as well as I do."

"Seriously, Lovino, you've already scared him enough in your first half hour of being here! Don't you have any other plans for the week?"

Lovino slammed his fork down to the table hard, "Dammit Feliciano! That's the whole reason I came up here! Of course I don't have any other plans, you want me to just waltz off and not give you any money? I need to verify you and your so-called friend have any merit whatsoever – I need to know you're safe and what he wants and what this means for us as a family!"

"It's not even about us as a family anymore! It's about the fact you owe me way, way more than fifty-thousand euros, and you haven't paid up since the year Nonno died! I could honestly take you to court for this," Feliciano lowered his voice momentarily, biting his lip, "But I haven't. Because you're my brother. And I'd hoped we could work it out by now."

"Shit Feli," Lovino whispered, his hand coming up to grasp at his lips in a pained expression, "Shit."

Lovino was very, very quiet, but at last he met Feliciano's eyes. "Do you know what it's like? What it's like to spend your whole life fighting something, your whole life protecting someone from the world, trying to do what's best, only to have that person love a monster more than you?"

"Stop calling him that."

"Do you know what it's like, Feliciano? To keep hoping day after day you'll call back and not be angry with me anymore and we can settle our differences? To explain to your little brother that Feliciano had to go away because he hates us and thinks we're insane? Because he values his teenage dreams more than the family?" Lovino's voice cracked on the last line, and Feliciano swore he wasn't moved by it.

"So why do you want me to stay inside this little bubble? If you love me so much, why do you have to control me?"

"Because I don't know what else to do. You're a dreamer Feli, this isn't the first time you've gotten a little too big for your britches."

Feliciano leaned back in his seat, frowning a little, "And why can't I help Ludwig then? How does letting him die help our family?"

Lovino buried his face in his hands, voice high and strenuous. "I don't know Feliciano. I honestly don't know. All I know is you're willing to put everything on the line for him and it scares me – it scares me because I don't even know him, it scares me because of what he is and what he's done."

"But Lovino," Feliciano lowered his voice, extending a hand to hold Lovino's shoulder, "Doesn't that mean he's important to me? I don't have many friends, Lovino. Friends are the family you choose for yourself, and I don't know what I'd do without him."

"You'd come home."

Feliciano stood up, pushing his chair in and taking the dishes to the sink, "At least get to know him first, before you decide to condemn him."

The next day Feliciano had to go to work again, and he knew he'd woken Lovino up when he heard the fumbling down the stairs, and the deep chocolate head of hair poking out from the stairwell.

"Why are you making four meals?"

Feliciano smiled warmly at him. "Simple. One's my breakfast, one is Ludwig's. I'll of course want to pack my own lunch, and Ludwig can't really get out of bed by himself yet so I have to pack his in a cooler too."

"And you do that every day? If he can't get out of bed how does he use the bathroom?"

"He just needs help walking to the bathroom. I feel bad sometimes, but he's very, very patient. And yes Lovino, he needs help bathing too it's not like he sits in his own waste all day."

Lovino huffed. "I wasn't implying that. It just seems too intimate."

"Well, you'll just have to get used to it. By the way, you'll be spending the entire day here I assume?"

Lovino nodded, and Feliciano continued, "Well, I'm hoping you know how to take care of your own meals, and you know, common house chores since I don't exactly have a maid. And the obvious; don't scare off Ludwig."

Lovino pouted even more at that, but shook sighed and muttered, "Yeah sure, whatever."

Feliciano left at 7:00 am sharp, locking the door behind him and giving a half friendly, half threatening smile and wave to Lovino as he left. And now all Lovino wanted was to have at the sharp toothed mongrel surely plotting to rip his family to shreds – and doing a pretty good job of it, from the emotional standpoint.

With that in mind, he took to the stairs, flying through the white chipped doorframe and landing quite awkwardly in front of a befuddled pale blonde holding out an English muffin on a paper plate.

Lovino wasted no time. "Well buddy, I don't know what you've been feeding Feliciano these past few months, but you and I need to have a serious talk."

The pale man blinked awkwardly back at him, clearing his throat a little bit, "Uh, can I help you with anything?"

"Yes you damn well can. You're tearing my family apart with your little scheme – you want Feliciano to yourself for some reason and I'm not about to let that happen. So tell me, what exactly is your plan?" Lovino said all this within one breath, his eyes dark.

"Plan?" The blonde stared back at him curiously, "Why would I want Feliciano for myself? And I'm so sorry if you think I'm really that detrimental to your family life, maybe I should try to leave soon. I mean, Feliciano is very kind for taking care of me, but I hadn't intended to hurt him or you."

Lovino sighed, "That's what I'm trying to figure out, smartass," The brunet smiled grimly as he dropped himself quite heavily on the foot of the bed, "Feliciano is beyond obsessed with you. He cares more about you more than he cares about me or Marcello. So I need to know what you plan on doing with him. I know your type. You're getting something out of this, beyond just fixing your physical condition."

Ludwig's hands folded back into his lap nervously, and his eyes trailed down to them. "I know. Without Feliciano's help, I wouldn't have a home. I'd probably be dead and I know," he paused, biting on his lip a little bit, "That it costs a lot, and that you have no obligation to me. And I know what you do, and I know that you don't trust me, and you'd probably fancy me dead rather than anywhere else. But maybe, after watching Feliciano, and hearing what he has to say, I think I'd be more of a monster if I didn't stay for him."

Lovino blinked in confusion, "What do you mean by that? What could Feliciano possibly gain from you that makes all his loss worthwhile? Don't you think you're overestimating?"

"Yes, probably. But I think from the way Feliciano speaks, he misses you and Marcello too. And he misses his grandmothers and his friends and he misses home a lot. And…I know it's not my place, but hearing him talk about all his family reminds me of my brothers. I can't even imagine how much more horrible it must feel to know your family is alive but not know how they are and not be able to talk without screaming and crying and I think, if I am a good judge of things, that Feliciano seeks comfort in me. Maybe it is only me trying to feel better about the way things have turned out, but he smiles more when he comes home and spends a lot more time than I think he needs to making sure I'm okay and he seems to get some sort of fulfillment. And I wonder if I wasn't here and he was all alone and never had a reason to call anyone back what he'd do. Would he just sit here with his cat as his only company? He always went straight home from work at the same time every day. I think more than anything that gives me reason enough to stay here."

Lovino snorted, "You're acting like he cares at all. He chose to leave us. Don't you think you give yourself too much credit?"

Ludwig blinked heavily, his delicate crystal irises clouding suddenly, "Maybe. But in a lot of ways, he's all I have. If I'm not of use to him, why does he keep me here? Why does he pretend to care?"

Lovino sighed, "I suppose you have a point. But why would he cling to you instead of us, his family?"

"Do you think he's afraid?"

The brunet snorted, "What of? I thought I'd made it clear he was always welcome back if he gave up his stupid dream."

Ludwig tilted his head thoughtfully. "Maybe that's what he's afraid of. You don't support him."

"And you're saying I should? Don't you know how ridiculous his plans are?"

Ludwig huffed, "He seems fine on his own, doesn't he? I mean, he has a nice job and a house which is more than I've ever had."

"You think too much for a blood sucker. Why can't you keep your nose out of our business and stick to your own?"

Ludwig smiled grimly, "I don't have any of my own, remember? Feli keeps my records in the third drawer of the mahogany dresser, if you're looking."

"Thanks," Lovino breathed, taking out said manila folder and closing the door behind him securely, watching for a moment with interest as the demon's fangs invested themselves in the carefully prepared soup his brother had made this morning. Absolutely sickening.

Lovino had seen the pale beast only once more that day, sometime after lunch he'd heard a great fumbling noise coming from up the stairs and he'd run to see what it was, only to see Ludwig leaning heavily on an aluminum cane, reaching out for the bathroom door. Which was something he'd rather not interrupt. Feliciano had come home at six like he promised, noticed all the sprawled out files and records on the kitchen counter, and greeted his brother with only a little nod. He'd then taken the stairs nearly two at a time and greeted his pale friend with much commotion (and far too much hugging, in Lovino's opinion), and proceeded to clean up the monster's dishes and put dinner on the stove. Dinner, as it turns out, was a hearty beef stew, something the potato loving German (as Lovino had recently learned was his country of origin) had most definitely tainted his pure and innocent little brother's cookbook with. But Feliciano smiled as much as ever and dished out three large portions, sliding one across to Lovino and gathering up the other two on a tray.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me, okay? I bought some soda when I was out today, it's in the fridge."

Lovino scowled, but let his brother go on his merry way. It was not very long until he heard quite the commotion coming from up the stairs.

"Feliciano, help, it's stuck! It hurts!"

"Oh god stop moving! Stop pulling on it! You need to go slowly!"

"I'm trying just let me go!"

Lovino was up the stairs in half a second, thrusting the door aside, only to find the muscular man sobbing over a can of grape soda seemingly impaled on his canines. Feliciano was sitting on the bed beside him, rubbing the small of his back soothingly.

"It's okay, why don't you just drink it all first so we don't spill anymore?" the copper haired man whispered, almost like he was speaking to a child. The care in his eyes held only for the thick blonde enraged Lovino more than anything.

The younger sniffled a little, whispering back, "But it's so bubbly."

Feliciano giggled a little at that, "It's soda, it's supposed to be bubbly. That's what makes it good. You should try some of the stuff my friend Kiku brings in. He gets his imported straight from Japan, theirs aren't quite as bubbly though."

"Can we bypass that and just get it off first?"

Lovino rolled his eyes at the two. "I'll get a glass. And hey, big guy, if you plan on hanging around here, you might want to get those things fixed. Don't want you hurting yourself," Or anyone else, he added mentally.

He thought about it as he pounded down the stairs, swinging open the cabinet door and selecting a glass. Had he really never had soda before? As much as he detested the blonde's very existence, he seemed like such a gentle flower whenever it came to Feliciano. And Feliciano catered to his every whim, though it seemed the man had very few. Was he beginning, in a way, to understand the obscure relationship his brother had with the pale beast? He had read Ludwig's records, but a tragic family life couldn't make up for a past filled with murder and bloodshed. There was so much more to a man than a single day of his life, Lovino decided, collecting himself and heading back up the stairs.

The next few days were no more spectacular than the first; Feliciano got up at six, made four meals, packed and sent two up with Ludwig, and left at around seven. Ludwig did not make for very much conversation, reading studiously from an original Brother's Grimm (printed in German, Lovino loathed to admit his brother owned such a thing). Ludwig was polite, but made it clear he was too tired for any of Lovino's belittling comments, and never once did Lovino catch him doing anything remotely suspicious.

There were a couple times he thought he had – mostly when Feliciano got home. The first time there had been a sort of loud crunch and a shriek that had definitely been Feliciano's voice, but as it turned out Ludwig had stumbled and fallen, and Feliciano was more concerned over him than what Lovino thought. The second time he thought he heard Feliciano crying – and he was right, except that Ludwig was crying too and the two idiots were watching the stupidest soap opera Lovino had ever seen. There seemed to be nothing Lovino could pin on the big oaf – his blood levels had been steady for almost two months now, and he showed no desire to ever feed again.

So Lovino found himself now at a crossroads as the weekend rolled in; did he let them get away with it? Could he really trust the pale man with his little brother, and his little brother with his own wallet?


End file.
